


i’m counting my seconds with you

by octoaliencowboy



Series: Moments [2]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Grayson (Comics)
Genre: Again, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, rated T for tenderness, these things always turn into hurt comfort i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 19:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18976702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoaliencowboy/pseuds/octoaliencowboy
Summary: Tiger has trouble sleeping. His mind gets away from him. Dick helps.





	i’m counting my seconds with you

**Author's Note:**

> :3

Neither of them said anything for a while, but Tiger thinks that it was true for a long time anyway. 

 

Once upon a time he’d believed love was nothing but a silly little fantasy, meant only for people who were not like him. Then he realized what a fool his child self had been— and then his whole world went down in pool of blood, and he vowed to never love again. 

 

And he didn’t. Until he met Richard Grayson, and he realized what a fool his teenage self had been. To swear this off, this feeling, the opportunity for moments like these, had been the most senseless conviction he’d had in his life. And he could freely admit, in the dark and silence of Dick’s bedroom, that he’d made quite a few of those. He had never been so glad to be proven wrong. 

 

Tiger can’t sleep. He  _ should _ sleep, he has to leave in the morning. But he doesn’t want to. He’d stay in this bed with this man forever, if he could. If he slept, then he would wake up and tomorrow would have come. So maybe, if he doesn’t succumb to the weight of his eyelids, then tomorrow would never arrive. 

 

Dick twitches in his sleep, pushes himself impossibly closer to Tiger, as if he were subconsciously trying to tell Tiger to stop thinking such nonsensical things and go to sleep. Because tomorrow will come whether he wants it to or not. Tiger is a powerful man, but no man is powerful enough to put the celestial movements of day and night on pause for the sake of his own selfish desires. 

 

Tiger’s chest tightens, not because of the weight of Dick draped over him, face buried in his neck and hand stretching out the collar of his shirt, but because of a sudden burst of emotion that seizes his heart. His arms, already wrapped around Dick, squeeze tighter, and Dick makes a small noise of content in his sleep. By god, does he love this man. 

 

Tiger is in love with Dick Grayson, and it is the most terrifying thing he has ever felt. 

 

He tries not think about the fact that, leading such dangerous lives, every time could be the last time. That every goodbye might be their last goodbye. That they could have already exchanged their last hello and not know it. He tries not to think about the possibility of never seeing Dick’s smile again. He is unsuccessful. 

 

If he went on a mission and did not return, he would hate himself in the afterlife for leaving Dick behind. Dick had suffered too much loss already, and Tiger would hate himself for forcing Dick to experience another too soon. 

 

But hating himself is something Tiger is intimately familiar with. He’d known far more hate for himself for far longer than he’d ever known love for anyone. 

 

If Tiger came back and learned Dick was no longer with the living, he would be destroyed. 

 

Tiger has been well and truly broken twice before in his life. Each time he had managed to use that pain as a foundation for a new, better, stronger version of himself. But he is not strong enough to do that a third time. Especially not without Dick at his side. If he lost Dick, then that would be the end. 

 

These kinds of thoughts often chase him down and trap him in a corner late at night. Thoughts that he’s taking more than he deserves from this. Thoughts that his touch does nothing but poison the man in his arms. All the what-ifs. Something about the cover of night invites the cruelest of his demons to the forefront of his mind. They keep him awake most nights. 

 

The nights they are able to spend together are few and far between (not enough, never enough) and Dick had yet to notice that Tiger barely slept, most nights. Tiger is glad for it. He knows that if Dick knew he would worry, and then he would try to fix it. There isn’t anything to be done about the recurring nightmares that give him incentive to stay awake, and the dark trains of thought that keep him that way. It wouldn’t stop Dick from trying, though. And when Dick didn’t succeed, he would get it in his head that it was his fault in the first place. 

 

There are a lot of things Tiger keeps from Dick for Dick’s sake. 

 

He’s pulled out of his head by the sudden motion of Dick twitching again, suddenly, harder, more violently than he had a minute ago, once, twice, before jerking awake with a gasp. His hand curls into a fist, scrunching up the fabric of Tiger’s shirt. His chest heaves against Tiger’s ribs, expanding and constricting with the force of his gasping breaths. Tiger can feel the hot puffs of air against his neck. He rubs what he hopes are soothing motions along Dick’s back, the hand he already had draped across his shoulder blades pulling him ever closer. 

 

He doesn’t ask. Tiger isn't the only one with recurring nightmares. Obviously. In fact, Tiger doesn’t speak at all. He was never a fan of ‘sweet nothings’— he believed if you talked sweetly to your lover it should be  _ something _ . Should have substance. But sweet somethings are useless when he doesn’t know what Dick’s nightmares were about. He could vow to never let anything hurt Dick until he was blue in the face, but that would all be but wasted breath over the fact that Dick’s greatest fear is not himself getting hurt. So really, all he can do for Dick in moments like these is hold him. 

 

Just as Tiger starts to believe Dick had fallen back asleep, Dick shifts. He moves so he’s not quite sitting up, propped on his side with his weight on one elbow. Not going so far so as to escape from Tiger’s embrace. Though Tiger’s arms do slide down to Dick’s waist, instead of reaching up to keep them where they were, on his upper back. 

 

“Did I wake you up?” Is the first thing Dick says. His voice is rough in the way your voice always is when you haven’t used it in a while, and the sound floods Tiger with warmth. Dick does that to him often— makes him feel warm. Makes him feel alive. Tiger had no idea he felt so much like an undead shell of himself until he met Dick. 

 

His eyes have become accustomed to the dark, in the hours he’d just spent staring at the ceiling. He can almost clearly see Dick’s sleepy eyes, the mess of his curls. He has the ghost of a five o'clock shadow growing and there is sleep gunk stuck to his eyelashes, and Tiger thinks he’s the most beautiful thing in the universe. He commits the image to memory. After all, it could be the last time he’s blessed with such a wondrous sight.

 

“No.” Tiger says. He doesn’t see any point in lying right now. “I was already awake.”

 

“What’s wrong?” 

 

Tiger knows Dick can’t really see him— it’s too dark, Dick just woke up, his eyes couldn’t have already adjusted. No amount of bat training could alter human ability. But still, Dick’s gaze seems to pierce Tiger right down to his very soul, and suddenly he feels as though he can’t hide  _ anything _ from Dick, and he was a fool to think he could. (Dick seems to be making Tiger make a fool of himself often, but even with his immense amount of pride, Tiger finds he doesn’t really mind.) 

 

“How do you do that?” 

 

“Do what?” 

 

“Always know exactly what I’m feeling.” 

 

Dick smiles at him. “That’s the power of love, babe.” 

 

Tiger doesn’t know how to react to that. It’s the kind of thing Dick would say to tease him, but his expression seems too genuine to be teasing. 

 

“Besides,” Tiger says as if the last few seconds of conversation didn’t happen. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you what’s wrong?” 

 

“Nah.” Dick’s smile is different, now, but Tiger isn’t sure how. “It was way scarier when I was still dreaming. It just seems stupid, now. So, what’s up? What’s keeping you up?”

 

Dick, unfairly, was always a better liar than Tiger. So if he’s lying right now, Tiger can’t tell. He lets it go. 

 

“I’m thinking about the worst case scenarios.” Tiger admits. 

 

“Oh?” Dick sounds intrigued, like he isn’t aware that Tiger is being completely torn up inside by these visions of possible futures. “And what is the worst worst case scenario?” 

 

Tiger has to take a moment to think about it. His first instinct is to say Dick dying, but almost as soon as the thought occurs to him he realizes that isn’t true. The worst case scenario is that he loses Dick, but not in that way. 

 

“I hurt you. I hurt you so badly you never recover, and I can never fix what I did, and you have no choice but to leave. You leave and I am alone for the rest of my life. I have to live with the truth of what I did to you.” 

 

Dick seems unruffled by this. “And what exactly is it that you do, in this worst case scenario, that hurts me so terribly?” 

 

“I don’t know.” Actually, Tiger once had a nightmare in which he strangled Dick and took him against his will, and the memory of that nightmare, of Dick’s imaginary bruises and tears, haunt him worse than any atrocity he’d committed in real life. He does not voice this out loud, though. He’d sooner die than hurt Dick  _ like that _ . 

 

He can’t think of anything he might realistically do that could hurt Dick to that degree. No lie or ruse could be severe enough. So he says he doesn’t know. 

 

“Then don’t worry about it.” Dick leans down so that their foreheads are touching, his fingertips softly brushing the side of Tiger’s forehead. It’s such a gentle, tender action, and Tiger is so very tired, that it almost brings him to tears. He is glad that Dick’s eyes have slipped shut and does not see. “I won’t let you hurt me. And I’m not going to leave you, not ever. Okay?”

 

“Okay.” Tiger whispers back. He knows this is the truth, right now. He knew it before Dick told him so. He will try to know it in the future. But it is difficult, sometimes, when his mind gets away from him. 

 

Tiger sits up, and Dick sits up with him. The blanket pools around their hips. He puts his arms around Dick again, holds him tight, buries his face in Dick’s neck and breathes in deep. A mirror image of their positions earlier while Dick still slept. He slips one hand under Dick’s shirt, feels along the skin of his back. Warm, and soft, smooth except for where the expanse of rich brown skin is broken up by a scar or a few. Old scratches, fresher cuts and slashes, a bullet wound that Tiger was there for when it happened. He’d long committed these scars to memory. He never wants to forget the feel of Dick’s skin. He never wants to forget anything about Dick. He hopes he is never in a position where he might. 

 

“I love you.” Tiger breathes. 

 

Dick gladly returns the hug. “I love you, too.” 

 

Tiger can hear the smile in Dick’s voice, and he loves it, but he doesn’t say that because he just said he loves Dick and he doesn’t want to say it twice in a row no matter how true it is. There is a limit to how embarrassing he will act for Dick’s sake. 

 

“We should get back to sleep.” Dick starts to push Tiger back down to the pillows, and Tiger goes willingly. All his building exhaustion has caught up with him, now, and suddenly the seductive pull of sleep is too strong for him to resist. Once he’s laying down, Dick presses a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, then lays a quick peck of a kiss on his lips. Tiger barely has time to return the kiss before Dick is pulling away and resettling in his earlier place of rest, with his head on Tiger’s chest. Tiger doesn’t mind. He can kiss Dick properly in the morning, after they’ve both brushed their teeth. 

 

Tiger never thought he’d be able, let alone allowed, to have tender, domestic moments like these. Having them now, having Dick in his arms now, brings him an indescribable feeling of wholeness he didn’t even know he was missing. This is where he belongs, Tiger thinks. 

 

He runs his fingers through Dick’s hair, letting the lavender scent of his shampoo override his other senses, and smiles like the romantic fool he is. He closes his eyes, and falls asleep. He does not have a nightmare that night. 


End file.
